


Work It Out

by Lidsworth



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: F/M, Urie being an ass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 03:04:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3512861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lidsworth/pseuds/Lidsworth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tired of Saiko's chronic laziness, Urie forces the girl out of her room, and puts her through a  fitness course he invented himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Work It Out

**Author's Note:**

> A/n: Also a character study of Urie. This is partly based off of a true story, when I was younger, one of my friends put me through a fitness course because he thought I was too lazy. Needless to say, I didn't get through it. 
> 
> And now, so I can graduate, I have to be put through a strength and conditioning class that SUCKS! Every week, another part of my body is sore. So I'm adding a little personal instances in here. 
> 
> If you know Urie, then you know he's mean (but he's one of my faves, he reminds me of Sasuke), so if you're easily offended with characters getting insulted, then this isn't the story for you.

 

Urie had finally reached his limit with their incompetent “teammate”, though up until recently, her laziness had done little to bother him, or cause him any sort of distress. He tried to pinpoint the exact day in which Saiko's activeness in the squad—or lack of it—had actually started to bother him.

 

He was well aware of the CCG's general outlook at the Quinx Squad, and the opinions and speculations that many ignorant investigators formulated based off of rumor or fragmented truths. They were either

failures or monsters, and up until recently, the CCG in general had chosen the latter to call them by. And in all honesty, Urie never minded the connotations that came with the word “monster”.

 

Ghouls, by definition, were monsters, blood thirsty creatures that could tear apart steal with a whip of their Kagune, that could instill fear in their enemies just by flashing a brightly lit Kakugan their was, fearless creatures that killed for blood....power. They were the embodiment of power, and Urie would be damned if he didn't stand for power.

 

So “monster” didn't phase him in the least—failure did.

 

Failure had torn his family apart. Failure had torn him apart, and never once—until recently—had the Squad been juxtaposed with failure.

 

He heard _their_ words in hushed tones as he walked trough various CCG owned building in different wards. Realized that through the eyes of other's, their reputation wasn't as “monstrous” as he once believed, rather “embarrassing” and a “dark age” in the history of the CCG. 

 

Urie supposed that's why he spent so much time distancing himself from the weak links on his team.

 

He heard how they were all singled out, how suddenly one member's failure became a failure of the entire team. Eventually, he could pick out names through the gossip.

 

Haise was soft, that much was known. He had the heart of a mother, and the mind of a child, he avoided conflict when necessary, and did everything for the good of his team, even if it meant putting them on stupid missions. Though there was talk of him being a ghoul, an  _actual_ ghoul, one not created like the rest of the Squad. 

 

There was Shirazu, who followed Haise's every whim. He was his bitch, always kissing up to him. It pissed Urie off, to see someone like Shirazu, who was so full of potential, so full of strength and killer intent,to be lowered to the level of some sort of child who blindly followed a being who just happened to fill in the role of a parent. 

 

Though he couldn't blame Shirazu, he came from a rough life, he'd do anything to preserve the peaceful one he had now.

 

But talk of Haise's demons went around the CCG in hushed tones, accounts of an “eye patch” and “centipede” always seemed to come up when Haise's name was being gossiped about, though they dwindled away whenever the group speaking would catch sight of Urie's intent gaze.

  
And they'd all seen Shirazu's monstrous strength. His power was undeniable, he could kill without even thinking about it, but alas, he and Haise shared a similar heart. They wanted peace in this life, because they'd lost it in their previous one.

But the two of them certainly were the “monsters” of the Quinx.

 

He didn't want to waste his brain cells thinking about Mutsuki's and the kind of embarrassment to the team he was, though unfortunately, their team's “terrible” reputation was a result of Mutsuki's own failure.

 

He was a failed experimenter, practically begged to get the surgery just to get “stronger”, and everyone knew it (just like they seemed to know everything about the Quinx). Urie wondered who paid for him to graduate from the academy. He couldn't control his kakugan, had to wear that stupid eye patch day in and day out. The other investigators knew what was hiding behind that eye, knew that Mutsuki couldn't even control it. It was a damn eye.

 

He was the sore thumb out of their group. The Quinx squad was identified by his weakness (because his failures had reached the ears of the CCG faster than Haise's past had), by his eye patch that gave them away, by the way he carried himself...

 

“I thought ghouls were supposed to be strong”

“I wonder if they all lack control of themselves like he does”

“What's the point of being a ghoul when you can't even use a Kagune?”

 

Mutsuki walked in shame—and in Urie's opinion—he deserved every bit of shame he felt.

 

He became ghoul to get stronger, only to be the weakest on the team. A ghoul, weaker than the average investigator. It was pathetic, Mutsuki Tooru was pathetic—and he knew it too.

 

With that goofy eyepatch, he looked like their damn mascot.

 

Shirazu and Haise were the monsters. This the Quinx squad were monsters.

Mutsuki was the embarrassment. Thus, the Quinx squad were embarrassments.

 

Saiko was the lazy one, and luckily, he reputation hadn't reached the ears of the CCG yet, and if Urie had his way with her, their reputation wouldn't sink any more than it already had. If Saiko's laziness were to get out, then it would just add fuel to the fire.

 

The CCG felt better calling the Quinx embarrassments than they did monsters, because it demeaned them more...if Saiko's chronic sloth got out...

 

That brought Urie to where he was presently, standing before a very rowdy Shirazu, and a very nervous looking Mutsuki. Shirazu stood at full height, fist clenched and eyes ablaze. Mutsuki cowered behind him—as usual—trying to muster up whatever courage he had to say something.

 

“Move it, I'm dragging her out of her room,” spoke Urie, coolly, “I'm tired of her bullshit. As a member of the Quinx, she needs to start regularly exercising and training. Staying cooped up in that room all day isn't good for he health--”  
  
“Don't for one second pretend you give a fuck about her health!” Shirazu snarled, cutting off Urie quickly, “Just leave her alone!'

 

 

They'd been going on forever (or Shirazu and Urie had been going on fore ever, Mutsuki was left unable to say anything) about Saiko that morning. Urie had explained his plan to train her, and revealed his opinions on what her laziness could do to the team, as as predicted, Shirazu took it as an insult.

 

“-nor does it look good for our Squad,” Urie continued, as calm as ever, “I only want what's good for

us and our reputation-”  
  
He was cut off again.

 

“Urie-kun, Saiko can get strong at her own pace, and which ever way she deems fit. Forcing her to train wont' solve anything,” it was Mutsuki who spoke, eyes pleading, and posture slouched.

 

“Because training “on your own pace” has certainly helped you? Hasn't it Mutsuki?” Urie turned his full attention to the the being standing behind Shirazu, “Unlike you, Saiko has potential. She's wasting it by locking herself in he room. She can benefit our squad.”  
  
“You asshole! Say you're fucking sorry!” Shirazu cried, as Mutsuki stared wide eyed.

 

“I”m not apologizing for telling the truth,” Urie raised his voice now, fists clenched, “I don't have time to deal with you two now.”

 

Had Mutsuki any potential, Urie would've no doubt dragged him to the field and forced him to train. But the smaller male already reached his limit, and there was no doubt that he'd break him if he had his way with him.

 

Haise was too soft on both Mutsuki and Saiko, and while Mutsuki was a lost cause, in Urie's opinion, Saiko could fight if she got off of her ass.

 

“Leave her alone, Urie!” Shirazu grabbed Urie's arm as he made his way towards her room, “Its Saasan's job to-”  
  
“Just like it's his job to train Mutsuki?” Hissed Urie, low enough so that only Shirazu could hear him, “At least you train at leisure...so he doesn't have to be hard on you—but Mutsuki and Saiko? I'm not letting another one of our members embarrass our team. This is a team, a team that _won't_ work unless someone does something about it...” 

 

Mutsuki had strayed somewhat behind, giving Shirazu and Urie a chance to speak. He could see the regret in Shirazu's eyes, see the acknowledgment of Urie's words twist in the shades of his eyes. Shirazu sighed, an relinquished his grip on Urie's arm. 

 

Urie smiled.

 

“Just...just don't go too hard on her, it's not her fault she's like this,” the ginger spoke quietly, almost defeated, and Urie nearly felt uncomfortable at the sudden change of his teammates attitude, though Shirazu's eyes lit up with an all too familiar blaze, “Mess up, and I'll mess you up!”

 

Urie smirked as he turned on his heels. Behind him, he heard Mutsuki voice his disapproval as Shirazu spoke to him.

 

All-in-all, Shirazu wasn't as tough as he put up, he just wanted his team to be the best they could be.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Even before he knocked on the door, he expected the long wait. He gave two beats against its wooden surface, and listened to a shuffle on the other side, in the room.

 

Sighing, he willed himself to wait there patiently. He remembered what Shirazu said, and truly, it wasn't her fault. He remembered her in the macadam, remembered how unwilling she was to work with anyone or do anything, partly because she didn't want to be there

 

While it was true that Saiko was a potential downfall to the Quinx squad and needed to change her ways, Urie needed to change his as well, if he wanted his plan to work.

 

With another knock, came another shuffle.

 

“No one's home! GO away!” Cried a high voice from the other side, “No one's home!”  
  
“Saiko, I can hear you,” Urie groaned, as he beat against the door, “Get up. Get out, we're training.”  
  
“Not now! Too tired! Come back later!”

 

He could feel the blood boiling to his eye as his Kakugan began to flash on. No one said it would be easy, and though he promised a bit of restraint, he still had his limit. 

 

“Saiko, open the door now! Or i'll kick it down!” He rose his voice just slightly, “I'm warning you Saiko!”

 

“No one's home, go-”  
  
Urie's leg connected with the wood, nearly sending it off of its hinges. Stray splinters what flying, and the girl in her bed went eeping.

 

_So much for patience,_ Urie thought to himself, as he marched over to Saiko's bed. 

 

“Up, we're training—Now”

 

“No! I'm to tired, come back later!”

 

Urie wasn't above dragging her out of her bed, but figured it wouldn't get the appropriate results.

With an extended finger, he poked the lump underneath the sheets, and rose an eyebrow when it began to shudder.

 

Provided through a tiny slit in the sheets, he could see a large round eye staring at him.

 

“What are the Quinx doing in here?!” Came the sheets, “Go away! I want Muuchan!”

 

Urie chuckled, “Isn't “Muuchan” apart of the Quinx?”

 

“He's not scary like you two!”

 

Urie nearly laughed, “You don't have to tell me that again-”  
  
“Stop laughing, it's creepy Urie,” Saiko groaned, sitting herself up, in all of her messy glory.

 

Urie folded his arms, face straight and eyes narrowed, “Good, get ready and get dressed, after that, meet me in the dining room.”

 

“W-what? I'm tired!”

 

“If you don't come down with me, I'll tell Sasaiki that you haven't been doing anything but sleeping and eating and gaining extra weig-”  
  
“You're not supposed to mention a girls weight!”  
  
“WEIGHT that is making you lag, and then Sasaki will have to tell Arima-san, and then you'll be fired. Do you wan to be fired, Saiko?”

 

Saiko actually hesitated for a while, and wondered what on earth she had to go back to. Her mother's bar—yuck, no. She could crash in with her brother, but she didn't even know where he was. Maybe she'd just quit the CCG...but would they really let a half-ghoul roam free? The CCG wasn't stupid, they'd “erase” her if she tried to escape. The moment she stepped out of the CCG and left it behind, she wasn't a person anymore, she was a ghoul, and she knew that.

 

She couldn't let Urie get her fired!

 

“Mm...Fine! Just leave me alone so I can change!”

 

Urie nodded and turned on his heels, “And don't linger Saiko, I'm waiting.”

 

As he exited the room, he thought about the ease in which he'd gotten her to agree with him. In all honesty, he wouldn't have a problem with her weight or her habits, if they hadn't been effecting her performance and health. But they were.

 

He knew that she had no motivation to be here, with the Quinx. It was supposed to be an escape for her, not a job.

 

And now she was wasting away. She sought freedom from her mother, only to be locked away in another cage.

 

Urie sighed, as harsh as her life was, it didn't give her an excuse to whither away. Life was life, people could either live with it, or be broken by it.

 

Hopefully, he could make her live with it.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I hope Urie isn't too harsh (but I think he's harsh in general), so I hope I captured his and Saiko's personality well, as well as the others. Please tell me what you think, have a nice week, and God bless!


End file.
